Chapter Seventy-Four: The Shenmu Tribe

Like the villagers of the creek village before, the young man was not much of a talker, but he was honest and kind-hearted. After a while, the two became quite familiar with each other.

The young man introduced himself as Muwa, hailing from a nearby tribe, all of whom lived within the Great Wolf Plains.

According to Li Mu, Muwa was very enthusiastic, bringing over several strong, dark wolves for everyone to ride, loudly inviting all to be guests at his tribe.

The tribe was large, though somewhat dilapidated.

Following the crescent-shaped lake, hundreds of different houses were arranged in an orderly fashion nearby. Around the houses, a ring of yellow earthen wall had been built, though much of it was damaged, and many of the houses bore signs of destruction—some even stained with vivid traces of blood, as if a battle had once taken place there.

In the center of the tribe stood a wolf-bone statue several meters tall, howling at the sky, appearing strikingly lifelike.

With a grunt, Muwa left the wolves and hurried off to announce their arrival.

Li Mu and his companions slowly approached the lakeside, where they were met with a respectful welcome.

Three young men accompanied an elderly man, all clad in thick wolf pelts, but the old man wore a hat adorned with a crown of wolf fangs atop his head. He appeared to be a hundred years old, his face deeply lined, his complexion a woody brown-black like the bark of a tree, his gaze direct and steady upon Li Mu, bearing the desolate stillness of a dried-up well, concealing untold sorrows. Yet in the eyes of the young men, there was a faint, fierce glimmer.

"Welcome, honored guests," the old man said, stepping forward respectfully. "It is a great blessing for our tribe to receive you. Please, come inside."

Seeing the old man's courteous manner, Li Mu hurriedly bowed in return. "Elder, please forgive us. We only wish to ask a few questions."

"Come, come, let us speak inside," the old man replied warmly. "We have prepared food and drink, awaiting our guests' arrival."

Following his warm hospitality, Li Mu and the others entered a large house, before which hung the impressive head of a wolf.

Once seated, several young men soon brought in an array of delicious roasted wolf. The freshly roasted meat glistened with golden fat, its savory aroma quickly filling every corner of the room. Even Li Ying, who usually disliked such food, could not resist tasting it.

"Are you cultivators?" the old man asked, his gaze fixed on Li Mu.

Li Mu paused for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, I am Li Mu."

That the indigenous people of such a remote region could recognize cultivators was surprising. Moreover, their attitude was not as reverent as the people of creek village, but rather natural, which was somewhat peculiar.

The old man smiled, the lines on his face shifting with the movement, more animated than before. "When Muwa told me, I sensed you must be cultivators. Thanks to the spirit of the wolf, you truly are cultivators. Our tribe may yet be saved."

Li Mu pondered this, a little confused. "Elder, why do you say this?"

The old man rose from his seat and raised his cup respectfully, his expression turning cautious. "Perhaps you do not understand. Allow me to explain."

"Please do," Li Mu nodded slightly, while Shen Bingxue nearby listened intently.

After some explanation, Li Mu gradually understood.

This was the Deepwood Tribe, and the elder called himself Akemu, the current chieftain. In his youth, Akemu had saved a wounded cultivator who had fallen from the sky.

The cultivator recovered in the tribe for some time, receiving excellent care, and, moved by gratitude, created a protective formation for the tribe. He also sought out someone within the tribe with spiritual aptitude, imparted a unique cultivation technique, and instructed them to practice and maintain the formation.

For decades, the Deepwood Tribe relied on this defensive formation to withstand attacks from neighboring tribes and wild spirit beasts, gradually growing into one of the strongest tribes on the Great Wolf Plains.

Not long ago, however, the tribe's only cultivator unfortunately passed away. Without a cultivator to sustain it, the formation could no longer offer protection. As if by fate, once the formation's shield was lost, wild spirit beasts began to attack. The tribe was ill-prepared to defend itself and suffered heavy casualties—half their people were lost within a few months.

Yet they were unwilling to abandon their home; within the Great Wolf Plains, it was rare to find such a haven. This was the home of all their people.

Upon hearing this, Li Mu smiled. "Elder, do you wish for us to help your tribe restore the formation?"

Akemu hastily shook his head. "We dare not ask for so much. We only hope you might lend us a little assistance. Whether it succeeds or not, we will be deeply grateful."

Li Mu nodded gently. "If it's not too difficult, I am willing to try."

With great respect, Akemu produced a cloth pouch from within his garments. It was tightly wrapped, but when he carefully unfolded it, it revealed a pale yellow jade slip.

"When that cultivator taught us the technique, he left behind this jade slip. Unfortunately, none of our tribe could decipher it. We beg you to take a look and guide our people in its cultivation." Akemu offered the jade slip with both hands, his face solemn as he passed it to Li Mu.

Li Mu sighed softly.

The reality was not so simple—possessing a technique meant nothing if one could not use it. What a cultivator could easily comprehend from a jade slip was often an insurmountable barrier for mortals.

But for the sake of helping, and in exchange for a cultivation technique, he was quite willing.

"Of course. That is easy enough."

Li Mu took the jade slip, not yet examining it, but looked at Akemu with a hint of doubt in his eyes. "However, I cannot judge spiritual aptitude. If someone without the talent for cultivation attempts this, it could cost them their life. Are you aware of that?"

"We are not afraid!" the people in the room shouted in unison.

Akemu nodded helplessly. "We understand. When the technique was first learned, dozens died before we found someone who could cultivate it."

Hearing this, Shen Bingxue found it strange. "But even when you had a cultivator, why didn't anyone else try to learn?"

Li Mu glanced at her and shook his head. "Physician Shen, there's no need to ask that."

"Isn't it odd? If there had been another person who mastered the technique, you wouldn't be in this predicament now," Shen Bingxue said, her bright eyes full of doubt.

"Indeed, you speak the truth," Akemu sighed heavily. "But if more people had succeeded, the tribe would have grown stronger and more secure. Yet no one was willing to risk their life for it."

Shen Bingxue did not fully understand, but Li Mu knew very well. In peaceful times, no one wished to die in vain. At first, no one could master the technique, and even if they could, it was only useful for maintaining the formation—beyond that, it served little purpose. Who would willingly sacrifice themselves in such tranquil days?

Now, in desperate times, their resolve had changed.

Li Mu glanced at the young men in the room; their faces bore the look of those ready to face death, and he nodded slightly. "Since you do not fear, then there is nothing to worry about."

He held up the jade slip and probed it with his spiritual sense.

The creator of this jade slip had been quite considerate. The technique within bore no name, nor was it complex—its instructions were clear and direct, and its spiritual requirements were minimal. Even in the Wolf Realm, it could be cultivated by the average person.

He simply needed to transcribe it onto paper.

"Elder, may I have brush, ink, paper, and inkstone?"

"Already prepared. Thank you for your help," Akemu replied joyfully, immediately producing the requested items.

Just as he was about to write, a sudden clamor erupted outside, sharp with the howls of wild beasts.

Muwa rushed in, shouting, "Chieftain, it's bad—wild beasts are attacking again!"